


Outwith

by V_mum



Series: Aboveworld Tales [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, DFAB confirmation of frisk, Depression (mention), Emotional Abuse, Frisk's first fall, Frisk's history, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Genocide Mentions, HP Conditions, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Its time for, Lots of conversation, Mental Abuse, Mentions of Chara, Pacifist Mentions, Physical Abuse, Previous timelines, Resets, Sexual Abuse, The Talk, Unwanted Child, anxiety (mention), child molestation, loads, mentions of abuse:, mentions of asriel/flowey, mentions of frisk's family, saves, time shinanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_mum/pseuds/V_mum
Summary: “Are you sure you want to do this now?”Frisk nods.“Okay, but, when I said this not talking thing had to stop, I didn’t mean this.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Are you _sure_ you want to do this now?”

Frisk nods.

“Okay, but, when I said this not talking thing had to stop, I didn’t mean _this_.”

Frisk looks at their skeleton friend. He can see they’re determination.

“Okay, okay. I'm not saying don’t do it- in fact, I'm on board with it. I'm saying, now? Kid. Take a break for star’s sake. You like, just got home.”

Frisk shook their head.

“Uh. Okay. Well, hear me out. One conversation at a time. You haven’t even been caught up to speed yet on what happened.”

“Don’t care.”

“Yes you do.” Sans snapped, crossing his arms.

The two of them stood on the front step to get back inside to Toriel’s house. The cold was gnawing, so Sans was getting impatient and more desperate to get the kid to see some reason here, so the already over done kid didn’t get frostbite. Once they went inside, there’d be no real going back; he knew that. If they went in on this decision, it was going to happen.

He sighed, rubbing one of his temples.

“Look, okay. Ill give you the cliff notes. After you passed out, Undyne showed up with your army. Stormed the building. Two of the royal guardsmen died.” Frisk flinched. “Undyne took that hard. Really hard. She freaked out on the battlefield. 9 humans died before Asgore got a leash on her. Human monster relations? Tense as fuck right now. But everyone else is alive, minus the Loox in the chair that we, uh, both know… doesn’t make it.”

Frisk swallowed, nodding slowly.

“Yeah. alright. Now. You’ve been asleep for two days. Tori healed you but you had a lot of Bloodloss. Big issue right now that’s freaked out your mom and everyone else?” Sans smirked in an angry, pained way. “Your HP? The max is at 3.”

Frisk balked. “how-?”

Sans frowned. “This is what happens, kid. When you do the shit you do. The anxiety and the depression. You have any damn idea what that does to HP?” he let off a long, tired sigh. “You slept a lot, so your HP level’s up to 34, last Tori checked. That was last night. Till we help you out in that area- by not doing this no-talking, every-frisky-kid-for-them-self shit, you’re going to have to play it by my book. You sleep a lot. 8 hours a night, minimum. Always carry monster food. You hear me?”

Frisk nodded, flinching.

Sans sigh. “And no standing in the fucking cold, either. Just- do you really have to do it _now_?”

Frisk was silent for a moment, before looking up at him. “Today.”

Sans… just sighed. “Alright. Inside.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother

The house was still asleep as Frisk and Sans reentered, locking out the cold behind them to keep it from penetrating the warmth of the house lit with Toriel’s magic fire.

There was a brief detour while Sans used his magic to move Papyrus and Asgore each to a better spot in the living room than asleep on their chairs.

Then, Sans and Frisk quietly moved to Frisk’s bedroom, a safe place to talk.

Frisk climbed up and curled into their blanket, still a little chilly, rubbing their toes to work the blood and warmth back in. Sans sat at the foot of the bed, crossing his legs.

There was a quiet, before Sans finally spoke. “Alright, then. How do you want to do this, kiddo? Who do you want to tell first?”

“Everyone.”

“uh, at the same time?”

Frisk nodded and Sans cringed. “You realize they’re all going to, ya know, bombard you with a million questions at once? Like, that’ll be… Chaos…”

Frisk nodded. They understood.

“…mom first, though.”

“right. That makes sense.”

Frisk paused. “…Then pap.”

Sans looked a little surprised, “You sure you don’t wanna tell daddy fluffy buns second?”

Frisk shook their head. “Pap.”

Sans sighed, long and hard. “Alright. So- uh- how much are you telling, exactly? Like, down to the line, what’s the plan.”

“Everything.”

“ok, I get that, you’ve said that. But, everything- that’s a lot. Like, ya know?”

Frisk nods. “…if I don’t get to it today, anything that gets left out… will come out another time.”

Sans side-eyed them. “I get you… but, uh, how far back are we going? Before the fall? Or only after?”

“…whatever comes up.”

Sans looked at Frisk for a long, long time. Finally he stood, “You want me in here while you talk to Tori?”

Frisk nodded, so he nodded back, and quietly left the room. Frisk waited on their bed, straightening their blanket back out to a neatly made bed, sliding underneath the covers to lean back on the pillow. They always had a habit of cleaning up before Tori ever came around; They never liked when Toriel cleaned up after them.

They waited patiently until at last, the sound of Toriel’s hurried paw steps thudding on the hallway’s hard wood floor lead right up the door, which popped open without a hesitation. Toriel’s furry paws mad much less sound then the clink of skeleton hands on the metal.

“Frisk! My child, you are awake!” Toriel wasted little time crossing the room with her long strides, quickly encompassing Frisk in the warm bear hug they so loved. So warm and fuzzy, and safe. Frisk curled close, hugging as far as their smaller arms could reach around the goat woman, cautious that… this just might be the last hug they ever get from their mother. It could always be the last time, and they hugged her like it would be, taking in all her warmth and softness and affection.

The door clicked closed with that familiar sound of bone on metal, and Frisk leaned back on their pillows as Toriel unraveled.

“Dear love, Sans said you wanted to talk, but I demand to take a look at you first. You are not very well.”

Frisk nodded patiently, and Toriel’s palms sparked with a warm green fire. Frisk’s bright red heart popped out and flickered like a battle the mad Frisk’s tired limbs tense and their real heart skip a beat, but it never came; Toriel just held their soul gently in the engulfment of flames, with a tiny hum.

>Toriel CHECKed.

FRISK – ATK 30 DEF 40

IS DETERMINED

EQUIPPED: THICK BANDAGES (10 DEF)

HP 49/3

Toriel makes the deep frown of a worried mother. Frisk fidgets with the edge of their blanket, quietly wishing all their training sessions with Undyne and Papyrus that had raised their minimum attack and power could do the same for HP. They know it can’t, though.

This could be… a big problem. They’d always had a low HP. Not as low as Sans, but low. That was common to humans, and Frisk was still a child, so none of Frisk’s monster family had ever questioned it. Humans rarely exceeded 50 HP, and that was the happiest and hopeful kind. The strong willed kind. Frisk’s 20 had been weaker for children their age, other kids at the school rounding around a 25. But that  never seemed too low, just a little bit lower than a norm. And their determination had always been a factor, making the HP damage they receive lesser. They’d been very strong thinks to their determination to _be_ strong.

But Determination can only do so much, it seemed. The very very very bad day that Frisk and Sans had gone through, yeah. that was bad. All the way down to 3, though…

If that didn’t speak volumes to all of the monsters that new about it, well. It was safe to say everyone knew Frisk had… problems, now. if anyone hadn’t already known. But to drastically decrease in HP over the span of a day…?

“My child…”

“I'm ok, mom.”

Toriel smiled sadly, and Frisk found themself swallowed in another great big hug.

Frisk heard her release one exhausted sob, nuzzling the top of their head, before letting go to give them a kiss on the forehead.

“a- okay, my love. What was it that you and i must talk about?” she was trying to sound optimistic.

Frisk looked at Sans. Neither one of them was excited.

Toriel placed a hand on the side of Frisk’s face, drawing back their gaze. “You can tell me anything, my child. I am here for you.”

Toriel had always known Frisk confides first in Sans. Toriel was ready to be confided in, too. Frisk could see it.

They swallowed once.

“…okay, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 has been bugging out a bit lately. im not too up on the news, anyone know what's up?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buildup

Frisk had kept it fairly brief with Toriel.

Sans and Frisk both could tell Toriel wasn’t necessarily buying what Frisk said with ease.

It’s hard to believe it when your child says they can control time.

Sans sure as hell wouldn’t have believed an anomaly like this could possibly exist if he hadn’t seen true evidence himself. Memories and other’s words aren’t evidence, even his own; he’d think he was just a little wacko if it weren’t for the hard evidence; hard, physical data that not just him, but other scientists, had seen… even if no one else but him remembered, or knew what it meant anymore. He’d had the data and evidence of the anomalies in his very hands. He knew it, unshakably, was true with all the imperialism of a scientist. Toriel did not.

But Frisk only told her, for now. They didn’t try to prove it, and they didn’t go into any details. That would come soon. For now, they just wanted Toriel to know first. The details, the proof… all of the nitty gritty, Frisk would tell to everyone.

Toriel gave Frisk a hug, thoughtful and confused, but supportive. Frisk told them they’d explain more soon, with everyone. Toriel looked skeptical, and perhaps like she didn’t find it a good idea, as if Frisk were telling everyone some made up story, but nodded.

Whether she believed it all or not, she would let her child explain things first.

Sans left with her a few moments later, and by the time they got to the living room, Undyne was rising groggily and Alphys was stretching and yawning.

They both looked at Toriel, the strange confusion on the ex-queens face, and looked to Sans with a creeping worry in their expressions.

Sans only shrugged at them and gently started to wake his brother.

Pap jumped in the same sketchy manor he’d been in since he got home, but was quick to calm down. “Come on, buddy.” Sans glanced over at Toriel to see she’d retaken her seat, still quizzical, lost in her own thoughts. Whileshe perhaps did not believe Frisk. Sans knew she could feel the little twinges of familiarity that were starting to nag at her. He knew the feeling well. “Let’s go see Frisk.” He looked back down at Papyrus.

His brother slowly rose, but Undyne was quicker, practically- literally- leaping off the couch. She woke Asgore when she landed on the ground beside him, who blinked and yawned. “The kid’s awake?? Why didn’t you say so??”

“No.” Sans said shortly.

Undyne practically deflated, but her indignation didn’t let her waver, so Sans continued, “you’ll see. Frisk’ll be out in a couple minutes.”

Undyne was ready to argue, as was Asgore, who wanted to go see his child, but Alphys stuttered, “It would probably be b-best not t-to… overwhelm them… s-so soon…”

Undyne sat down on the couch with a grumble next to her girlfriend as Sans guided his tired brother to the hall, and Asgore started speaking as they disappeared.

When Sans and Papyrus quietly re-entered the door to Frisk’s bedroom, Frisk looked up with a tired smile.

Papyrus sat heavily on the edge of Frisk’s bed, and wrapped them in the same kind of hug they’d shared a bit earlier, and Frisk nuzzled against his chest, content. After a few moments, when they parted, Frisk looked up at Sans. “…is it okay if…?”

Frisk didn’t need to finish, he got the picture. Sans offered a thumbs up, sharing a cautious glance backand forth between the two, and left the room, closing the door.

“Papyrus…” Frisk started quietly, but it faded away.

“YOU CAN TELL THE GREAT PAPYRUS ANYTHING, MY FAVORITE HUMAN. YOU KNOW THAT. WHAT IS IT YOU DO NOT WANT MY BROTHER TO KNOW?” he maintained his stage whisper, cautious exactly of the fact that Frisk didn’t want Sans to hear whatever it was. Papyrus was used to having to fight to hear the kinds of things Frisk and Sans shared of their secretive and dark nature, not being seemingly chosen over his brother for it. Seemingly, he would not let this chance Frisk was taking with him go vain.

Frisk was quiet, but after a deep inhale, tried again. “Papyrus, I'm about to… tell everyone something very important. And I know, from past experiences, that… this doesn’t go well, not every time.” Their hands trembled a little, so they buried them under the blankets. “You- You’re always on my side. Thank you for it. For being my friend. I think you’re probably my best friend.”

There’s a long quiet as Frisk tries to word their next sentences. “Today’s going to be hard… and I'm glad you’re here for it. But… after today… tomorrow, or maybe, in a week, I don’t know when. Sometime soon. But… I'm going to need your-”

Frisk gets cut off by two bony arms wrapping around them and picking them up, and they can’t help but smile when they look up at Papyrus and his orange-streaming tears and his dorky grin.

He forgets his whisper voice as he practically shouts, “YOU ARE THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ BEST FRIEND AS WELL, LITTLE HUMAN, FRISK, OH, MY, THE GREAT AND AMAZING FRISK!”

He’s so high pitched Frisk cracks a snort and descends into giggles, and they can hear the living room laughing a little ways away having heard Papyrus’ shouting of joy.

You love this goofy skeleton.

But as soon as you think he’s listening again, you start to whisper just what you need his help for, soon.

He swears on his life he’ll do the best he can do with it, and he wont tell anyone- unless he has to.

You thank him, but then, you ask him something else for you. To help with what you’re about to do. He nods, leaves, and hurries home to get it from Sans’ above-ground lab behind their Ebott home.

Sans comes in a moment later, puzzled. “Why’d Pap take off?”

“he’ll be back soon.” Frisk assured. “Went home to grab something I asked for.”

Sans looks at them, a quiet “…mmm…” sounding from him, before he nods. “alright.”

He looks back down the hall from where he stands in the doorway, and walks in. He jumps up to sit on the edge, silent a moment.

“…are you sure?”

“I’m determined.”

“You certainly are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soon we begin the obligatory "coming out" scene of a young frisk


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beginning

Sans emerges from the hall into the living room with Frisk. Still in their pajamas, he holds them to his chest, and they cling on like a tired koala, as if trying to conserve all they’re energy for what’s to come.

There’s a distinct feeling of dread rising within their belly and reaching toward their chest; the traditionally family shtick “you can tell us anything” doesn’t extend to the things Frisk has to explain, and as they’d mentioned briefly to Papyrus, they know from experience that the coming out session… it doesn’t end well, most of the time.

And most of the previous times, they hadn’t caused so much trouble before telling everyone- between the way they’d acted in the Papyrus rescue, and the fighting at school, and the hospital visits, they already felt as if walking on paper thin ice. There’s a liquid fire that aches creeping through them, the same fears they’d felt lying in their nurse bed their last day at the Human School. An anticipation of abandonment that they both felt guilty for expecting of their loved ones, and accepting that it only made sense.

In this situation, this risk, though. It felt raw and ready to bite them as Sans took them into the room of those loved ones, into open view that made the anticipatory dread grow.

He carefully deposits them on a chair he’d dragged out of the dining room for them, seeing as the living room was quite full. When Sans puts them down, there’s a moment they consider grabbing his sleeve to hold him a little while longer, but they let him straighten up to stand full instead, and mentally berate themselves for the neediness as he looks around the room.

Despite Frisk’s arrival, no one is as hyper to react as they had been before. The room is quiet, and the mood is too… too something.

“…so, are you ready, kiddo?”

Frisk took a moment, glancing to each face of their family. Toriel, still uncertain and thoughtful. Asgore sat on one knee against the couch on the floor in front of where Undyne was half-laying, and they exchanged a glance Frisk couldn’t understand. Alphys looking around the room nervously, and Sans is looking out at them too, patient, and yet, prepared.

Frisk nodded, and just when they did, the front door was thrown open. “FRISK! I FOUND THE SPECIAL NOTEBOOK!” he’s halfway down the hall already, bee lining to their room.

“Kid’s right here, pap.” You can hear the curiosity in Sans’ voice, and Papyrus races back, and then runs around your chair to your other side from Sans.

He hands you a hard cover red sketch notebook- recognition grows upon everyone’s face. They’ve all seen it. Frisk brought it with them many times, often writing or drawing in it. Toriel knew it, particularly, and you can see the immense curiosity on her face that she has every time she sees it- she’s gotten phone calls from many of Frisk’s teachers complaining they’re “too busy” in their little book for paying attention in class, and they don’t let anyone see inside it. Toriel had tried to talk about it with them once, but, Frisk had been… pretty cryptic. As normal.

Frisk smiles and nods their thanks to Papyrus.

He looks proud.

They look at Sans. “Can you start?” He raises a brow bone at them. Frisk shifts. They can’t look at him as they ask, because they know it’s a lot, asking him to be the one to talk about it. “The way you normally- talk about the- the anomalies. In the… the golden hall.”

They can see in the edge of their eye that he cringes at the reference, because that script is normally reserved only for… certain timelines.

“You can- you don’t have to use the same words. Just- time. Start an explanation, for me?”

Sans nods. “Alright, kid.” Then, he turns his head back up to look at the others, and sighs. He puzzles for a few moments over what he wants to say, before continuing.

“Most of you know, at least enough, that I'm a sciencey guy. We’ll leave it at that. Once upon a time, I was a science guy. And there was me and a couple other science guys. Like Alph, aint that right?”

Alphys jumps upon mention, but nods nervously that this is being brought up. Frisk and others can’t help but wonder about what there is in that, but its not quite the time for that line of questioning.

Sans is continuing. “Our reports, back then in those science times, showed a massive anomaly in time. Time Anomalies, if you will. Time Fuckery, if you won’t.” Toriel and Papyrus both scowl at his language, Sans just shrugs. While normally… verbally contained, Sans has kind of let his language go lately. It’s only fair; it’s been a very stressful week, let alone month.

“If you imagine time as a straight line which we progress- which scientifically isn’t accurate because time isn’t like that and in a way doesn’t exist but, whatever- if you imagine time like a line, the time anomalies- these timelines, if you will- Timelines jumped left and right, stopped and started. They all start at the same time, the same anomaly. They start, stop, rewind, return, and go again. Most of them start, and go back to, a certain… moment.”

Sans’ eyes slide to the corner of his sockets, directly at the human company. “…the day Frisk falls down.”

Frisk opened their book, turning the page. They show everyone, Sans and Papyrus leaning forward to get a look, too. It’s a drawing of Frisk falling through a hole. It’s pretty good, too. Its drawn with pencil lead and what could be charcoal. They turn the page. Frisk lies amongst the flowers at the bottom. Sans is a little intrigued; he didn’t know the kid was into art. The only people who don’t seem surprised at the reveal of Frisk’s apparent art hobby are their goatful parents and Papyrus.

“The day I fell,” Frisk repeated. “Is the day my life… changed. None of you remember that day; none but maybe Sans- but I doubt it- and two others none of you might know today.”

Toriel sits straight- “No, my child- no, I certainly remember. It’s a day I could never forget!”

“It’s a day you _had_ to forget.” Frisk corrected.

Frisk went quiet a moment, waiting for an argument, but Toriel didn’t retort, opting to instead hear why Frisk would say so.

Frisk took a deep breath.

They turned a page.

A flower in a bright ray of sunshine, smiling. It’s strangely detailed, with too much detail that it looks… ominous.

“The first… the first thing I met in the underground, the first time I fell. Their name was Flowey. They are neither monster, nor human. They had no soul. They were the _first_ Time Anomaly; Once they were a monster, but without their soul, they were no longer one. He lived in solitude and had lived a very long time, restarting the world and doing whatever he desired. He ould not feel- not love, or hate, or sorrow. And when I fell, he no longer was the anomaly that controlled time. So, to get his power back, he tried to kill me.”

The page turned. Toriel.

“My mother is the one who saved me that day.”

Toriel nods, reassured, as she remembers this well. “Yes, my child, I do remember this day.” Everyone else looks just as familiar with the basic story line; they’ve heard it all many times.

“You don’t.” Frisk repeated quietly. Silence, and they continued. “After Flowey, I was afraid. But Toriel, my mother, she guided me. She took me home through the ruins, through the puzzles. I was kind, I made friends with the monsters as I moved through the ruins and Home. I lived in the Underground, in the ruins, with my mother, for many, many years. I lived there until I was 79 years of age. And then I died, for the first time.”

The room was silent as a plague. Pregnant with confusion. To an extent, a disbelief, like they’d listened to a child just telling a strange, confusing story of fiction. Frisk continued anyway.

“I got sick, like the elderly do, and I was dying. But weak, while my mother was away for only a moment, came Flowey. A sickening smile full of anger that I had his power for so long, and had never even known it. He killed me to get his power back.”

 “He did not get it. Instead, I loaded my first SAVE.”

Frisk turned a page. A strange orange box with a little heart, and the word, SAVE. Above it, a yellow, star-like… design. All drawn with much simpler marker, neat and clean, drawn with calculation.

“My Save had been only a few hours ago. I was still sick. I was still dying. Flowey came again. I died. And this repeated. I don’t actually know how many times. This… this was a very, very long time ago.”

Frisk turned a page. A new box. It held the single word, RESET. No other hearts or designs.

“Until, one time, I RESET, for the first time, instead of loading my save. I was afraid. It was a way to escape dying, over and over and over. When I came to-” Frisk flipped all the way back to the first picture. “I was a child again. I was where I had started.” They turned forward a page to Flowey. “Flowey came again to kill me for my powers once his.” They turned again, to Toriel. “My mother came for me again. I was- I was…”

Frisk smiled. “I was so happy to see her. My mother- I was safe- I would live so many more years with her… The thing was, Flowey- Flowey remembered me. He never addressed me with my real name, always the name of someone else, but- but he thought I was me, even if it was the wrong name. He _remembered_ me- so- I thought- I thought, even though time went back, everyone had memories, still. But-”

Frisk turned the book back to them, flipping the pages quietly and slowly as they continued.

“But she didn’t. My mother had forgotten me. She did not know me. Not a single thing about me. No matter what I said… what I did… what I tried… she did not remember me. She did not know me. I was… so distressed… I reset again, to try again. She came to save me again, but once more, did not know me. A third time. Still, no. A fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth… she never came back to me with her memories.”

Toriel, herself, looks horrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unrelated to the chapter: 
> 
> sometimes i go into bizarre genres of fanfiction just for the hell of it.
> 
> like yesterday, i was in the markiplier section, and honestly i dont much like fanfiction in most fandoms especially live people fanfiction, because i mean. you know thats actually a person so. and the markipliar fandom is like, obsessed with the Darkiplier idea, and its weird to ship live people to me. But i go there anyway, because you always find at least 1 likable story thats well written with great development and story, even if its OOC. like, nah, that was 90% not mark in most of the storys i was reading, but they're still good stories.
> 
> anyway this was going to be a paragraph about how bizarre it is to be reading a rape fic about a real person getting raped and tortured in the redroom, but i kinda lead it in a different context about looking for good writing. 
> 
> my points:  
> 1- Holy fuck thats creepy to read, a story about a real live person like Markiplier being tortured and raped live screen  
> 2- I honestly dont think its a good idea to do that i mean i know id be personally scared off youtube if i crossed that fanfiction about me  
> 3- it was surprisingly well written  
> 4- i personally dont like most fanfiction reading from most fandoms (the exceptions being Undertale, Rick and Morty, Gravity Falls, and sometimes Naruto)  
> 5- i personally dont like anything about real people (markiplier, phan, celebrities, etc etc)  
> 6- all of that said i can still find good stories i like in any genre as long as its really well written, edited, and charactered and won't really see the characters as who they're supposed to represent.
> 
> all that said im physically disgusted someone wrote a rape fic/torture fic about an actual person; and conflictingly liked the story unrelated to the person and as just a story. thats the main point.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Life

Frisk hummed quietly a moment, and turned the book back when they found the right page. The door out of the Ruins.

Their family is quiet as they continue.

“I… I decided, if… if I did not have my mother, if she couldn’t remember me… I wasn’t going to stay. I was going to run away from the underground. I would escape it. Go back to the surface and… I'm not much sure the rest of my plan. But I would leave. Return to my home, if the one I made with my mom… didn’t exist anymore.”

Frisk turned the page. The door again- but Toriel Blocks The Way. She’s a great big figure aflame with tears. Frisk smiles. “…I never thought in all my life I would have to fight my mother like… like I do. She refused for me to leave the ruins. She… she always does, after all. It’s one of the constants of the underground.”

Frisk sighs. Their teeth grit. The page turns.

A horrible image of their mother, dying, and yet, smiling. The outlines of the image have been outlined again and again and again in different colors, sometimes the lines going out of sync as a panicked Frisk relived the memory as they traced the page. Tracing the page, over and over, crayons, markers, pencils, pens, reliving it as they trace and trace and trace it.

 “…I…” they stop. Frisk cant bare to look up at anyone right now. “…my mother fighting me… the first time, I'm afraid. The first time, I think- if she doesn’t know me as she did- did the first time… she might kill me. I'm not her child as I once was, she barely knows me. She might kill me. It’s a fight. Her fire hurts. It’s a terrible fight. All I can figure out to do… is to fight back. No matter what I say, she won’t let me leave, she eventually stops responding, I don’t know what to do, she will not listen… finally, the last blow.”

“My mother, she is dust at my feet.”

Frisk gives a slow, shuttering exhale.

“My first timeline, I never left the ruins, I lived my life in the underground. But my second, my second time… I killed my mother. And then, then…” Frisk laughed, weakly, “after that… I was… I was scared. I had never been in the underground. There… There were so many more monsters- stronger than those who lived in the ruins. And everyone in the underground wanted me dead, or wanted my soul, or-”

Frisk held their book tight, “I was… a scared human. We… we all know what a scared human is like. The first after the ruins that… didn’t survive an encounter with me was Doggo. I was so scared, when he attacked for my soul… I didn’t know what else to do… I attacked back. He died. And after. After, it got worse. Stronger and stronger they came- it seems almost ridiculous now I could ever be afraid of _Greater Dog_ of all things, but man… the first time you see him, in his armor, rising from the snow with his spear…”

Frisk showed them all a new page. Sans’ jaw hitched, and they could see him, in their peripheral, turn away. A drawing of Papyrus, standing tall. Its drawn in a manner that someone might forget Papyrus’ general personality. He’s drawn in the angle a terrified small child would see this tall, strong skeleton would look as he sends upon you waves of bones, boasting he will capture you so that everyone can have your soul.

“In another life I’d learn Papyrus wouldn’t kill me, never does. But in this one… this one… I didn’t know that. And he was stronger than any other monster from Snowdin, any monster that I had fought, and he wouldn’t let me escape… He, too… he, too, died. He died and I ran, I ran from Snowdin. I didn’t see Sans again for… a long time.”

There’s a painful, long silence in the room. No one is going to speak.

“There’s a certain effect to killing so many monsters as I moved through the underground. I got EXP- Execution Points. I got HP, I got strong and harder to kill, I didn’t want to die, and I found things- armor and weapons… from humans before me that were dead, that reminded me that monsters _would_ kill me, that drove my fear. I was more and more scared the further I went. Every monster that triggered my soul, I fought, and they got stronger, stronger than the last. I was so scared, when they attacked, I killed. I hit as quick as I could and I _ran_. I saw very little of the underground- I was going too quick, running, fighting and running again. And as I ran further though waterfall, She picked up the pace behind me. She was coming.”

A page turned. Undyne. Brandishing her great spears. “Undyne would save her people. She would. She would kill me with not a single. Single hesitation. I was going to die if I didn’t kill her. The only reason I was strong enough was the EXP, the LV, the AT. I needed those things. I only tried harder to kill those I ran into. I needed it. she was going to come and kill me- and then, she did. She came to kill me. The fight. we fought. I died. I came back to my save. I died. I came back. I died.”

Frisk turned the page but turned the book back to themselves. Sans and Papyrus looked over their shoulder but didn’t look long, wincing away from the gory, more panic-scribbled drawings. A child skewered through with spears, a grizzly amount of red. Les care, no penciled sketches before hand, just a grizzly, gory work.

“There was a lot of pain in the process; after a load, the pain lingers even when the body is fresh. I could feel being pierced in each spot several times over. Many monsters had killed me before, but, none so painful as Undyne. Every single part of my body hurt by the time I managed to kill Undyne of the Royal Guard. The first time. The second time, though, it was even worse. The second time she rose again- Undyne. Undyne the Undying.” Frisk turned the page before showing them again. A horrifying image of a horrifying woman, a monster woman with her own determination, so much of her own determination she was no longer physically stable, melting, and dying from the force she fought with. “There were many more deaths for me until I finally managed it.”

Frisk fell silent again, thinking. “You can… guess, most of the rest. I ran on. I still had to… face Asgore, at the end. He’d be my worst enemy. I needed all the EXP and LV I could get. Everyone I ran into, I had… had to fight, I would kill. I needed it for when I face him. And when they attacked, I was afraid of dying. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. I mean, I couldn’t really die, could I? heh. I'm not really scared of dying anymore.”

They hear the sound of Sans jaws grinding and Papyrus’ bones giving a clacking shiver on either side of them, the way their voice must have sounded when they said that. They  don’t have the nerve to look up at anyone after hearing those two reactions.

Frisk leaned back in the chair. They looked up at the ceiling, as if seeing to what they were describing next, instead.

“When I got to the castle, ready to face Asgore- or, not really ready. I didn’t think I ever would be ready for that. When I got there, though. There was an enemy waiting that was… much, much worse. Much harder to fight. much stronger. Much scarier.”

Sans gives a single, emotionless, “heh.” That just makes Frisk’s heart still a little in their suddenly tight chest. They can, for a moment, feel the fear like they’re back in this day.

“Sans.”

And, the silence of the air was broken as Undyne gave a little snort and Papyrus sputtered.

“What the _heck,_ now isn’t the time for a joke in this weird ass story, Frisk!”

“Language!”

“Uh- sorry, Lady Toriel.”

Frisk showed no sign of the amusement, and it sapped away quickly from the room as well.

So, Frisk continued, flipping through the pages of their book, showing none, just looking at them for themselves. Feeling the fear radiate as Frisk had drawn them into their body again. Page after page of drawings. Blue eyes, hearts bursting, blasters, bones, blood, golden hallways.

“I am a murderer-”

“Was.” Sans cuts.

Frisk is quiet a second.

“I was a murderer. The onslaught that came was a judgment befitting it. I… I was not expecting that. Sans had been scary to me at the start, and when he disappeared after Papyrus- died, I wasn’t any less scared of him.  But I wasn’t expecting what happened. It’s probably the worst moments of my life, a very, very long life, any time I ever fought Sans. But this… this first time…”

Frisk was quiet as they stopped turning pages and reached one in particular. There he was. Sweat on his skull, offering an image of themself open arms. A single box, with a single word, above his head.

MERCY

Frisk turned it to them.

“No monster had done this since id started this… this bloodshed. Mercy. Spared. He spared me, after a thousand- unexaggerated- a thousand or so deaths. I… I was… amazed.”

Frisk laughed, once. “I didn’t _want_ to kill everyone. I didn’t _want_ to kill _anyone_. I accepted. I was being spared. I didn’t have to kill Sans. I accepted. I spared. Mercy.”

Frisk smiled. “He killed me.”

Silence.

Frisk stopped smiling and looked down at the picture they were sharing. “I loaded the save. I was… then, at that time… I was… horrified, scared, and— _angry_. At him for doing that, at myself for trusting it—oh so, so, so angry. The first mercy I was offered was a _lie._ I hated him. I hated all the monsters- they all wanted to kill me- some of them- _many_ of them had. They had wanted to kill me the moment I had stepped out of the ruins. I was so… so full of hate. In the end I had to cheat to win against that… ‘special attack’.”

They turned the pages past more gruesome vents until they showed another; Asgore, down on one knee, sliced through and surrounded with, heh, ‘friendliness pellets.’

“I fought sans until I killed him. I fought Asgore. It took… I took _one swing_ , I was so… so angry, so hateful, and killing Sans had been the max on my HP and my ATK and my DEF, just one swipe to bring him to his knee, on his last leg… just _one_ …”

Frisk put the book down a moment. “Flowey got there first. I- I would have killed Asgore, I was just this close to it. so close. I would have gotten the boss monster’s soul and finally, could run away… run away to the surface… free… no more monsters chasing me, trying to kill me, lying to me, hurting me, hunting me… Flowey killed him first. Flowey killed him. Then, Flowey destroyed his soul. Like that’s what I wanted. He killed Asgore and destroyed the soul. He smiled and said, ‘see? I did it for you?’ He thought I- I was… someone else… he’d done it for them. But at the time he said, ‘I did it for you’… and...”

Frisk looked at the book. “I was so… so… livid. I had done everything to survive. I had done everything not to die. Done so many horrifying, bad things I hadn’t wanted to do just to get _out_ … And he… ruined it. I get mad sometimes, and its… its bad, but then… at that moment… I was _livid_.”

Frisk looked in the book again. “I had never been, nor on the many, many lives I had after have I been, that mad again. I hit him, again and again, and again… and again… and again… and again… I mashed him into nothing… till the paste of his leaves and petals and the bush of the wilting flower were absorbed away into the dirt and dust in the throne room…”

Frisk turned another page. “And then.”

They showed a picture of themselves. A portrait. But a Frisk with wide eyes. Bright red.

“Then… Then, I… I met them. They were already dead. They were a ghost… not like a ghost monster- a- ghost, spirit, a soulless child, a demon is what they said they were, they… they liked what I had done. They wanted it. They became it. They were my LV, my EXP, they were my hate. They took me. They took me over with it. They are a part of Frisk, now. They are a part of me.”

Frisk touched the paper quietly.

“I was a murderer.”

Frisk closed their eyes.

“I was and I _am_ a murderer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how ironic that the only monster that actually offers you mercy is Sans


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Last Life

“…After that… I reset again. They made me. I just wanted to go home, but. The other one that now… had me. They made me.” Frisk closed their eyes a moment.

Frisk shook with a single, wracking sob, but shook they’re head when Papyrus reached out a hand to them before it could even rest on their shoulder.

“After I had to reset, I wasn’t… in control anymore. They were. They were in control. They were… They were only hate, only anger. For many, many timelines. They took pleasure in the challenge. They wanted to see how strong they could get. They wanted to fight.”

“I went through it all. Over, and over, and over, and over. I had no control over it.”

Frisk was quiet a moment.

“Sans was, of course, they’re favorite challenge. The strongest monster certainly surprised them. They’d dubbed him the easiest monster up until then. The golden hall was the setting for… a very long time. The only place I saw for so long, as they did the fight over and over and over… even after they won. When they won, they set a new goal. To go through without a scratch, for example. That took… A very long time.”

“When they got bored after going through and mass murdering, they started again, and tried it a different way. Instead of murdering immediately, for example, they’d wait until they got everyone to their most vulnerable with kindness, then kill them for the look on their face. It was in that run that… they were trying to kill Papyrus… and this time… Alphys had evacuated Snowdin, so he shouldn’t have been there but… he was. he just… he kept mercying us… I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to… I- I threw them off. I spared Papyrus back. They got mad. They restarted. Except this time, this time. For every fight, they let themselves get hurt as they fought, but then switched to me. They switched to me just long enough that’d id feel it.”

“All of your attacks really hurt, you know?” Frisk said, very, very, very quiet to them. Barely whispering. “They made sure to die once at anyone they could’s hands, at least once, to remind me what it felt like to die. They told me, I needed them. Or I’d suffer. I’d suffer and die without them… I… I believed them. But I watched the suffering, now. I was watching everyone suffer…”

“It was in Sans’ fight. He was sparing us. Again. I know it’s a lie by that time. I know what happens. They were getting ready to deny him. I- with everything I had, I tipped them. I tipped them to accept.”

Frisk was… quiet, but, then started talking slowly, in a different tone of voice as they stared at the floor. “Listen. I know you didn’t answer me before, but…” They could here Sans swallow. “Somewhere in there. I can feel it. There’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. Someone who, in another time, might have even been…” Frisk wrings their hands tightly. “c’mon, buddy. Do you remember me? Please, if you’re listening… let’s forget all this, ok? Just lay down your weapon, and… well, my job will be a lot easier.”

You look at the page.

_Sans is sparing you._

“The same thing that… that had made me mess up in the first place, its how I… I got back. When Sans killed us this time, I fought. I fought so, so hard against them. I was in control when I woke up in the flowers, at the bottom of the fall. Id managed to hit reset.”

“I was determined to do it all right this time. Do everything right.”

“I… I made mistakes… a lot of them, along the way. I wasn’t perfect. I failed a lot. A lot of Loading and Reseting. It took me a while to figure out how to get the best ending. And even, sometimes, when I got it… I messed it up, or by chance, something bad would happen.”

“We… We know how the best ending goes. We’re all here, after all. I still fight my mother, but I leave and shes alive and unharmed. I still fight most of you. But in the end, I don’t… I don’t fight back, not… not in the physical way. I learn to buy Spider donuts ahead of time so I don’t have to fight Muffet, I learn the right reactions and things to do so that every monster, not just us, is happy when they get to the surface- Icecaps were harder to figure out, actually… but there’s a way to do everything. A way for each and every moment in the underground that does the best, that makes everyone happy on the surface… and it took a while to find it all.”

“Sometimes, amidst everything, They would come back. For a couple timelines, I couldn’t… do anything as they played with everyone’s lives. Killed for the fun. To hurt me because I took back control. But, we’d reset… almost no one knew… almost no one. Almost everyone was okay.”

Frisk was quiet.

“I got… I got very dependent on what I can do. Saving, Loading, Reseting… sometimes on the surface, we… we didn’t do things right. The humans rallied. Hate. War. Once, even Slavery. I reset. I have to go back and do it all again, and it takes a couple resets to get it perfect again, but then we have another shot…”

“But we ended up back underground again, and… while… none of you really remember that. I do. And it hurts to start over. I have… memories none of you have. Undyne doesn’t remember the time it was winter and we got lost on a camping trip and she kept me from feeling scared by singing so loud and wild that the others found us, and Mom and Dad don’t remember the couple of times on the surface that they fall back in love and re-marry and even have kids again, my brothers and sisters who don’t exist now, and Alphys doesn’t remember the time we were actually in the anime studio where they made mew mew kissy cutie because she won the game show Mettaton rigged for her and got autographs from mew mew’s voice actress. The surface would mess up, humans would riot and there’d be a civil war I couldn’t stop as an ambassador, or Papyrus would end up dying and Sans would _beg_ me to reset, to bring him back, and id wake up in the flowers again and my own mother doesn’t know my name and outside the doors everyone I love is waiting to try and kill me again…”

Frisk’s voice fades a little as they struggle to keep it even, calm, nuetral.

“And then there’s Sans, too. He remembers. He knows everything I’ve ever done. I'm kinda ruining his life. Over and over. You shouldn’t have to watch your brother die a million times, shouldn’t have to suffer death a million times for the sport of someone who wants to kill. I hadn’t known for a very long time that… Sans remembered. Only after so many resets, did I know, and… if I’d known someone was suffering from them too, I wouldn’t reset a good ending just because… because of one detail. I wouldn’t have reset a perfectly good like just because I didn’t get a Vulkin their Happiest Ending Result, or missed a little thing I could have done.”

Frisk stretched their fingers, watching them move. They touched their chest and closed their eyes. Taking a deep breath.

When they opened their eyes again, they looked up sharply and summoned the panel.

The room stilled, and even Sans froze as he saw it for the first time, himself.

The transparent button option before Frisk. Orange squares.

[SAVE][LOAD][RESET]

“I formed a save only a little bit earlier this morning.” Frisk said quietly. “With a push of one button, I can rewind to a time where I have not told you any of this. Worse yet, I could take us all back to the day I fell.”

The panel blinks away after a few moments, as if Frisk were considering those options, before dismissing them.

“…I grew dependant… I still need it. I…” Frisk clutched their pants, tight. “I- I still needed it… 57… 57 times. 57 re-loads, to save Papyrus. To save him. We… we died a lot, trying to do it. A lot of people died a lot. The thing is, I'm still thinking about loading it again. Going back to try again.”

Frisk feels Sans shift, suddenly hyper aware of him, and a soft fear pricks their spine as if realizing the audacity that they dared the thought that they go back to a time Papyrus was in danger.

But Frisk continues, determined.

“Now that we know the right way… a way we can save him… maybe we could do it _better_. Maybe we can save him a better a way. A way that none of the humans die. A way none of the monsters die. A way where…” Frisk looks down at their arms, rubbing the sleeves up to touch the bandages. “A way things didn’t happen the way they did. Now that we know where the monsters were taken to, and how to save them, I could load back to that afternoon, before they had even put pap and MK in the back of the van, and stop it from ever happening. Then go get the other monsters. I could do it… _so much better_ …”

Frisk trembled. “I can do better. I can do it so much better. No one has to die. No one has to be hurt. I could… I _could_ , I mean it. I can- now that we aren’t in the thick of it, I can think of hundreds of ways to do it. Little things to fix, little ways to make it better… I could even… go back further. Go back to when the very first monster went missing. I could go get them, stop it all before it starts… I could fix all my mistakes, fix everything wrong with what I did, all the failures… I could… I can…”

A single strong hand rests on Frisk’s shoulder, and they stop; at first out of a mortal fear because they know who that is, and what they’re talking about is against what they promised. After a second, Frisk looks over at Sans, and he takes his hand back to tuck them both in his pockets. He’s not looking at them, just at the floor. There is no blue fire in his eye. Frisk sighs long, to calm down, and looks ahead again.

“I… I have a promise. Not to reset again, with Sans. I'm sworn. And- I don’t want to. to reset. I feel the need to, sometimes. Particularly, right now. After all this. None of this was supposed to happen in the good ending. No kidnappings, no rescue missions, none of… this. But there’s never a perfect surface ending… The reason I reset the most, is because this still isn’t a perfect ending to the underground. There… there’s still someone very, very important to me… stuck underground right now, but… I can’t save them; and there’s another person I don’t understand very well that’s also lost; and, maybe, I could save the one that became a part of me, somehow… Sometimes I want to reset to try again, maybe I could do it right and save _everyone_. Even the best ending isn’t perfect. Sometimes I want to reset. Sometimes I do. But… I don’t know how I would. I cant, honestly. So, I’ve promised. This- this is going to be my last timeline, if I can help it. Sans and I, we didn’t… didn’t even want Loads, either. we didn’t want time shenanigans. This is supposed to be the last, final timeline, and. It’s supposed to stay a line. A straight line. a good one that’s happy.”

“And I… can’t help but think I’ve failed at it. and ruined our last time line we’ll ever have.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deaths

Sans and Frisk, both, had expected more questions out of everyone immediately. But it seems everyone was… just trying to digest this idea.

It was very quiet.

Frisk, waiting, continued to flip through their book. Wondering if there were parts of the story they’d missed- of course there were, this story had come over many lifetimes. So instead they wondered which ones they still needed to tell, or which ones were just… moments and memories that weren’t key to the tale.

Sans was the first one to bring up a question, surprisingly, for the person there that knew most about it already. Perhaps he was trying to break the ice for questions, or maybe he actually was surprised to hear what he had, and just had to ask.

“So, then… Paps never killed you, huh?”

Frisk shook their head. “Not… uh, purposely. There’s only one timeline I can honestly say he had, from a long time back before I could LOAD without dying. Paps always stops at about 1 HP in the fight and I get put in the ‘dungeon’ shed. It was… cold. I can’t really throw any blame, neither of you knew much about humans back then, uhm.”

“You _froze_ to death?” Sans seems a little… shocked.

“I’ve died just about any way I can think of.” Frisk shrugged. “There’ve been countless accidents too, but I don’t really count those as pap’s killing me? Freezing to death was… not uncommon in Snowdin, Sans.”

Sans is… he looks conflicted. “…I don’t remember those.”

Frisk is, well, surprised. “Really?”

Sans looks more upset now. “Kid, what kind of _cold-_ hearted guy do you take me for? I don’t let kids _freeze to death._ ”

“…did you just make a pun about my child freezing to death, Sans?”

“uh. Heheh. Heh. Ok, that’s a little tasteless even for me.” He gives Toriel an apologetic, wincing grin.

“Is it really that weird? I mean, a little kid wandering for hours through a snowing forest filled with traps and puzzles and monsters who want their soul. You kind of, uh, forget to stay warm. I was even wearing _shorts_.”

Sans winces. “…yeah. ok, my bad, I guess I should have kept an eye out on that.”

Frisk shrugs. “I understand. You’re a skeleton- not like you think much on those things. Plus, uh, you kind of hate me.”

Sans goes a little. Silent. And is just staring at Frisk. He seems speechless.

The conversation doesn’t continue, as Undyne finally breaks out of her thoughts.

“How many times?”

Frisk looks at Undyne.

She repeats. “How many deaths?”

Frisk is quiet again, before responding, “You… or me?”

She looks distressed, far more so than a moment ago. Undynes on her feet, hands in fists. “ _I don’t know,_ both?! How many has _everyone_ died??”

“UNDYNE, IT IS ALRIGHT. EVERYONE IS OK! WE ARE ALL ALIVE!” Papyrus protests, moving to try and get her back to sitting. Asgore assists, silent.

“Not _everyone_.” Even as the person furthest from her in the room, Frisk hears the mutter. Papyrus gives the slightest little flinch, as does Frisk. Monsters have died, even if it’s above ground, during time shenanigans.

Frisk hums a little before opening the book, trying to keep their breathing deep and steady. Sans watches over their shoulder, past cringe inducing drawings and scribbled, panicked words all over pages. At last Frisk reaches their goal, pieces of notebook paper taped into the pages of the sketchbook-like blank pages.

“Sans has a special place… a place immune to the time anomalies. A long time ago he let me keep some things in there. I keep this… this journal there, when I don’t have it with me.” Frisk says quietly and the room hushes to hear them. “It sounds horrible. But… it’s been such a long time… I don’t know the numbers myself. Of deaths.”

Frisk looks at the papers and so does Sans.

Each page has another paper tapped in, a single name at the top. Each page is a death toll, divided into rows, and each row with tallies.

The first page says Asgore. Row one, _Flowey: him_. Its marked with several lines of different inks or instruments. Section 2 is a name that’s… scribbled out and he can’t read it, followed by ‘ _him_ ’; the lines are packed in. another section labeled _accidents: him_. Many more. Another area, _Humans: him_. More lines. There are other rows. the rows that start from the bottom are different. _Barrier fight: me_ is stuffed full. _Accidents: me_ is lesser full than anything else on the page _. War with humans: him_ has a lot. _Found in the underground: me_ has a few, less than most of the others, when Asgore had heard of them and come to collect their soul himself. The page is suspiciously grayed, as if it’s been in dusty places, and there’s a few browned smudges of old, old blood.

Frisk flips through more pages with taped in lined paper. Toriel. Undyne. Alphys. Lesser Dog. Grillby. Anyone Sans has ever known underground, has a place in this book. Many pages, like Asgore’s, bare blood and dust marks on the pages, and the hand writing has gone shaky, and haunting image reminders are scribble like doodles with panicked hands in margins.

Papyrus’ page is a little bit of a relief in that there’s only 1 line in the bottom row labeled for death upon Frisk, labeled ‘accidents’, and there are fewer categories of death. There’s a recent-looking row added, though, marked in new, un-faded red ink pen. _The Researchers: him_. He scans the tallies quickly, a little nauseous. He’s starting to understand he doesn’t remember timelines as perfectly as Frisk. He gets an exact number, looking at this. 56. His brother died 56 deaths 3 days ago.

Sans looks up at Papyrus to find his brother is also looking at the page. For a rare occurrence, Sans cant gauge a single thing off Papyrus’ expression.

Until Papyrus’ expression turns to one of a silent horror as Sans hears another page turn.

He looks down at a page labeled “Sans”. Perhaps the most gruesome looking page since Undyne’s. Not a single part of the writing isn’t shaky, and it’s all hard to read, and there’s a burn in the upper corner that, for some reason, tells him ‘Gasterblaster’. Of the Rows he can read, he sees _woke up from a nightmare: me_ and _panic attack: him_ and _panic attack: me_ and _gave up: him_ and _punishment: me_. His page has… too many lines. there are two particular rows, both labeled _Judgment Day_ , one for _him_ , one for _me_. they’re so crowded with lines, little of the paper is shown through it. The whole paper is crowded with scribbled streaks and marks from moments Frisk must have panicked on this page and lost it. there are drawings of blasters, Swirling magic from an eye, cracked HP, bones. Not the Art from pages in Frisk’s book, but scrambled doodles, rough from whatever state Frisk had been in when they made them. There’s an unsettling amount of blood and dust on this page, ruining and staining the lines of some categories and making it hard to read, but also on the page of the sketch book. He knows the sketchbook has only been around in the last few timelines. He doesn’t have any memory of a bad run with Frisk in the recent ones. He doesn’t remember where the blood on the sketchbook should have come from, or the dust.

Frisk’s book snaps closed sharply as if to cut off all thought processes.

“You can see the counts later, if you want.” Frisk finally says to Undyne. “I… wrote them all down. Every one of them that… I can remember.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone dies sometimes, lmao

**Author's Note:**

> nyeeehhh


End file.
